


All of This

by paradisperdu



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Minor Angst, Mirror Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23406919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradisperdu/pseuds/paradisperdu
Summary: Hiiro just wants Aira to know how wonderful he is.
Relationships: Amagi Hiiro/Shiratori Aira
Comments: 10
Kudos: 124





	All of This

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love Alkaloid, I can’t believe I love them this much and the game is still so new.

It’s the night after their first live show. Tatsumi and Mayoi had made the decision to vacate the shared dorm room after Aira had a full on break down by the time they arrived back at the Ensemble Square dorms, leaving the crying boy in Hiiro’s care. 

“He needs you right now.” Tatsumi had said, and placed his hand on Hiiro’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Please make sure that child finds the light he’s so desperately looking for.” Mayoi hadn’t offered any words, only nodded after Tatsumi and the pair of them departed, leaving the two of them alone and Hiiro to comfort Aira—his first real friend since he left his hometown. 

They’re sitting on the floor, Aira’s head resting on Hiiro’s shoulder as his body trembles with nothing more than dry sorrow, his tears run out long ago. Hiiro’s been trying earnestly to learn the customs of city dwellers, but he struggles with the impersonal nature of so many of their gestures and mannerisms. Deep down he knows it’s not the proper thing to do by wrapping his arms around Aira and holding him close, but Hiiro can’t think of anything else to do in the situation. 

“I’m holding you back,” Aira whispers into the darkness of the room, leaning into Hiiro’s embrace. “I should’ve been fired—why am I being forced to compete among three people that are so far ahead of me I can’t even visualize reaching toward their backs?”

Hiiro doesn’t respond, but wraps his arms more tightly around Aira, so close he can smell the floral shampoo and product Aira uses on a daily basis just to achieve that stick straight hair, bangs so delicately placed across his face, just barely gracing his shapely cheekbones. Resting his chin on Aira’s head, Hiiro pulls him as close as he can manage, letting Aira expel his emotions as long as he needs. When Aira’s shoulders begin to shake, Hiiro doesn’t say anything, only moves his hands to grip Aira as tight as possible because he was afraid that if he let go, Aira would never come back from the darkness.

“I thought you were the same as me,” Aira finally manages to say after catching his breath. “I thought you and I were equals—I couldn’t have been more wrong. You were so...,” and Aira trails off, wrapping his arms around Hiiro in response to the tight embrace. It makes Hiiro smile—he knew that Aira didn’t dare make any sort of social faux pas and to feel Aira’s embrace holding Hiiro just as tightly filled him with a warmth and satisfaction that he’d never known before.

“So what?” Hiiro finally says. “I would be nothing without the rest of Alkaloid—I’d be nothing without you.”

Aira laughs against Hiiro’s shoulder, his blond hair tickling Hiiro’s chin as he rests it on the top of Aira’s head. 

“I know you’re just trying to make me feel better,” Aira swallows and turns his head so his face is buried in the crook of Hiiro’s neck, his hot, ragged breath sending chills down Hiiro’s spine. “I—thank you. I—.” 

“Why do you assume I’m lying?” The words come from Hiiro’s lips faster than he can even think about what he just said. It took a lot for something to upset Hiiro, especially when it’s coming from a dear friend he thought that he was close with, deep in his heart. “Aira you, you made me realize what it means to be an idol. Up until now all I wanted to do is destroy them for taking my brother away, but you... you showed me another path. I meant it when I said I’d be nothing without you. Please believe me.”

Hiiro can almost feel the smile that creeps across Aira’s face when he hears those words, his shaking shoulders coming to a halt. 

“You’re so,” Aira laughs, pulling himself apart from Hiiro’s embrace, “You have no idea how to talk to other people, do you?”

“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?”

“Hiiro-kun, I—“

Without any preamble, without a single thought, Hiiro presses their lips together, tongue lightly gracing Aira’s lips before he forces them apart, enjoying everything about the taste of him. He smells like the faint hint of the expensive cologne and dried sweat, sending memories of their shared live show flooding back to Hiiro. Aira kisses him back, moving to sit on his knees to meet Hiiro’s height. 

They’d been in a similar situation before, but Hiiro definitely didn’t remember Aira moving forward to straddle his thigh, hands holding Hiiro’s cheeks in place as he kissed back deeply, tenderly, unit jacket falling off his slight shoulders. His uniform hat had already fallen off, lying somewhere in the darkness of the dorm, and Hiiro reaches a hand up to hold the back of Aira’s hair, gripping the soft blond strands between his fingers. This time it’s different. It’s desperate and full of longing, the words never spoken between the two of them hanging on each movement of their lips against one another. 

“Please, I—” Aira starts and then trails off, sliding his body higher against Hiiro’s leg, grinding down on it when he reaches the top of Hiiro’s thigh. “I—I’m so sorry,” he manages to get out, and hearing Aira apologize for absolutely nothing makes Hiiro jerk his leg upward, pressing against the growing hardness straining against Aira’s unit pants. 

“Don’t ever apologize,” Hiiro says against Aira’s lips, “I wish you knew how perfect you are.” Sliding his hands from Aira’s shoulders to his waist, Hiiro digs his fingers into Aira’s skin, using it as leverage to roll his leg upward again and again until Aira’s panting and falling forward, hands resting on Hiiro’s shoulders. 

“You mean that?”

“I don’t lie,” Hiiro counters without faltering, finally lowering his leg as he takes off Aira’s unit jacket and shirt with care, tossing it gingerly beside them. “There’s nothing I want more than for you to see yourself the way I do.”

Aira doesn’t respond and Hiiro isn’t sure if it’s from shock, surprise, or subjugation to Hiiro’s bold statement, but it doesn’t really matter so long as he can ensure that Aira’s listening to him. Moving his hands down to Aira’s pants, Hiiro hooks his hands into the waistband, pressing against the small of his back, forcing Aira harder against him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hiiro thinks that this isn’t what Tatsumi meant by being there for Aira, but he can’t help it—right in front of him, straddling his waist is the most genuine, perfect person he’d ever had the good fortune of encountering. Sometimes Hiiro couldn’t believe that they’d been forced together by the agency and instead believed it was divine intervention—four souls brought together to accomplish a larger plan. How else could someone as beautiful and genuine as Aira come into his life? He most certainly must’ve been sent there. 

Hiiro hears Aira swallow above him, his thighs gripping Hiiro’s hips a little tighter. “Show me,” Aira says and his voice raspy likely both because of the situation as well as the earlier performance. “Please, show me.”

“Lie back,” Hiiro says in response, and Aira blinks for a moment before obeying, climbing off Hiiro and lying down, back parallel to the floor. He certainly has the body of an idol: small, slender, and delicate, the shirt of his uniform riding up to expose a small strip of pale skin, so fair and immaculate it practically glows in the moon beam creeping into the room. 

Instead of leaning over Aira to kiss him or touch him, Hiiro stands, grabbing the full length mirror they kept by their shared closet space. It’s not attached to anything so Hiiro can lift it easily and he brings it over, lying it on it’s side, resting the back of the mirror against the frame of the other set of bunk beds. It’s dark in the room, the only light coming in from the window, but it’s enough to see Aira’s face flush red. 

“Just watch.” Hiiro drops to his knees, sitting beside him. He uses one hand to tilt Aira’s face toward the right, holding his jaw firmly in place, and the other to run down his side, stopping when he reaches Aira’s waist. “Try to see what I see.” Without any further comments Hiiro releases Aira’s jaw and leans over Aira’s body, scraping his teeth against Aira’s pretty, pink nipples, tongue darting out to trace the shape of them. 

Hiiro can hear Aira making the softest noises of pleasure, his light voice hitching in his throat until all that comes out are his quiet gasps for air, lower back arching off the carpeted floor as he shamelessly tries to grind into Hiiro’s hips. His hand is covering most of his face, but in the brief moment Hiiro looks up, he can see that Aira’s looking at his own reflection through his fingers just as Hiiro asked. 

They had progressed this far before, Hiiro kissing and touching Aira’s chest on the bottom bunk of the bed as Aira ground his clothed erection into Hiiro’s until they both came into whatever they were wearing. A few times they’d tried to talk about it (well, Hiiro tried to talk about it), but nothing ever came to fruition and the both of them continued life as normal, knowing that when the dorm room was empty, they’d go back to their unspoken intimacy. Hiiro didn’t mind, he knew enough about Aira even in this short period of time that they’d discuss it when Aira was ready. 

But tonight felt different. It didn’t feel like any of the other nights, Aira’s sorrow and self-deprecation taking control of his emotions, and Hiiro would do whatever was necessary to break him from the mindset that he was somehow undeserving of love and compassion. 

Biting down just a little, Hiiro pulls back and sits back on his legs, looking down at his unit mate, friend, and what he assumes is his lover by this point in time with nothing but admiration and kindness in his eyes. Aira finally pulls his hand from his face and exhales, looking at his expression in the mirror. Hiiro hopes that Aira can see what he sees, his cheeks flushed and vibrant, bright green eyes full of vivacity, skin so lovely and flawless, that even the carpet that rubs against Aira’s back is too abrasive. 

“Don’t,” Aira starts before his words trail away and he moves to look up at Hiiro. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. It’s okay, I—” and Hiiro leans over to capture Aira’s lips in silence before he kisses down the length of Aira’s torso, finally ending at the waistband of Aira’s pants. He only fingers them for a moment and unbuttons them, starting to tug them down Aira’s legs. 

Before long Aira’s in nothing but his underwear, breathing labored and ragged, his blond hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks glistening with sweat. Hiiro reaches a hand up for a moment to tilt Aira’s head toward the mirror and then settles back between his legs, mouth pressing against the fabric of Aira’s briefs. 

They hadn’t done this before. This is something new, and Hiiro waits a moment to make sure Aira’s okay with it before going any further. His only response is Aira’s hips pushing upward, undoubtedly to renew the contact. Hiiro takes it as an indication to keep going and hooks his fingers into Aira’s underwear, sliding it down and discarding it somewhere in the darkness.

“Look at how pretty you are,” Hiiro says, and slides Aira’s cock between his parted lips, tongue running along the base. He fits comfortably in Hiiro’s mouth, and he’s able to maneuver himself so Aira hits the back of his throat whenever he went down on Aira completely. 

Flicking his eyes upward, Hiiro can see that Aira’s eyes are fixated on the mirrored version of himself and when he tries to bring his hand up to cover his face, flushed with arousal, teeth biting the corner of his lip, Hiiro grabs on to Aira’s wrist and holds it firmly in place. It defeats the purpose if Aira wouldn’t watch himself. 

“This is so,” Aira starts to say and arches his lower back up, noises spilling from his delicate lips. 

Hiiro pulls back for a moment, “So what?”

“Embarrassing,” and Aira’s words come out in a breathless gasp and he moves his entire body upward, trying to fit all of himself in Hiiro’s mouth as he releases with Hiiro’s name just on the tip of his tongue. It doesn’t take very long—both of them are a wreck of hormones and emotions, both desperately trying to find answers and meaning in each other as they explored the complexity of a relationship. 

Lowering himself back to the ground, Aira repeats, “embarrassing,” laughing a little under his breath. 

“I don’t think so,” Hiiro says as he props himself up on his forearms, hovering just a few centimeters above Aira. His eyes are bright and clear, not a single trace of his earlier anxiety visible on his face. Hiiro reaches a hand up to touch Aira’s unblemished skin, marveling at how soft it is beneath his fingertips before pushing Aira’s sweat soaked blond hair from his vision, tucking it behind an ear. 

Aira’s cheeks are already pink, but he still manages to turn an even deeper shade of red. “Of course you don’t think so—you’re strange.” It makes Hiiro laugh, Aira’s boyish face set into an expression of indignation. 

“I meant everything I said, you know.”

“I know—you don’t lie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks!


End file.
